Echoes In The Mist

by Rifi Strawn

  As she sat on the porch steps, he came over to see her with a glass of lemonade. “Thirsty?”

  “Yes.” The cold, sweating glass soothed her aching hands. As she guzzled down the tart-sweet drink, he was inspecting her work. “It’s the best I can do,” she said.

  He gave her an admiring glance. “Where did you learn to do dirt work?”

  She wiped her moist mouth on her sleeve. “I helped my aunt build her flowerbeds.”

  “You do excellent work.” He refilled her glass from the jug close by and sighed at the blisters on her hands. “Why don’t you take a break while I get the first-aid kit?”

  She nodded with relief. “Thanks.”

  Minutes later, he returned. He took the water hose nearby and gently washed her dirty hands like a small child’s. Even though her fingers burned and hurt, she enjoyed the attention. After he turned off the hose and dried her hands, he sat next to her on the steps, and nursed her wounds with antibiotic ointment.

  His gaze softened as he treated her blisters. “They must hurt.”

  “Yes.” She rolled her lower lip out as he packed up his supplies. “I don’t get any Band-Aids?”

  Holding her gaze, he pressed his soft lips on her hands. “This should make them heal faster.”

  She smiled. “I think it’s working.”

  He wrapped the Mickey Mouse Band-Aids around her fingers to keep the dirt out. “I shouldn’t have worked you so hard today. Sorry, I wasn’t thinking. My mind was elsewhere.”

  “I’m all right if you give me some gloves.”

  “You’re done.” He walked off to finish her job.

  In thirty-minutes, he filled the remaining potholes in the sidewalk. Must be his manly strength. It would’ve taken her all day to finish this chore. The pain was worth it. He babied her and gave her more lemonade.

  He stopped and studied the fresh footprints in the path and took pictures.

  She walked up to him. “Did you find anything?”

  “Clues, maybe.”

  She looked at ordinary sneaker tracks. “These footprints could belong to any one of the guests or employees here.”

  “Other than you and me, hardly anyone takes this path,” he said.

  “Then why are we fixing it?”

  “The less visible you are, the better your chances of survival here.”

  “Maybe I should apply for a job at one of the other busy resorts. It would be harder to kidnap me with so many other rich foreigners around.” He slapped an insect on his arm. “Never leave home without protecting your skin,” she teased.

  Hands-on his belt, his dreamy gaze lingered on her face as he bit his lower lip. “I’m glad you listen to my warnings.” He checked the time. “Let’s go around up the guests for the morning ride.”

  “We’re getting a late start.”

  “We’re cruising the Zambezi River this morning.”

  “On a boat?”

  “Well, the Rover doesn’t float or fly.”

  “Smartass.” She crossed her arms. “Are we canoeing the river?”

  “No. That would be like serving the guests on a platter to the hungry animals. We’ll be on a big boat.”

  “And I was just getting used to the predators on land.”

  When he left to do his work, she walked over to Tabo. “How are you doing?”

  “I’ll be okay, my lady.” Tabo’s admiring gaze skimmed her uniform. “You look nice.”

  “It’s the most beautiful clothing I own. I’ll never forget the price you paid to make it.”

  “The danger is worth you looking so good, my lady.”

  Stanley kissed her soft cheek. “You’re a woman after my own heart. Thanks for doing such a fantastic job.”

  Heeding Mr. Reed’s warning not to flaunt her wealth, she discreetly placed in Tabo’s hand a Zambian currency gift card equivalent to fifty-dollars. Tabo’s sewing talent deserved ten times the amount. Still, her generosity could tip off an observing kidnapper that she was loaded.

  “Please, don’t tell anyone I gave you this,” she whispered. “I’m already in trouble with Jeremy.”

  Tabo’s eyes grew large from her generous compensation. “Oh, thank you, my lady. I will buy new shoes for my children.”

  “No, don’t do that, please. People will wonder where you got the money.”

  “I will be very careful.” Tabo tucked the gift card in her bra and looked Stanley in the eye. “Please tell Mr. Jeremy, your new uniform was not my idea.”

  “I think he knows.”

  Tabo gave her Band-Aid wrapped fingers a curious look. “How did you get this?”

  “Filling potholes. They’re just blisters.”

  She looked toward the new, improved pathway and smiled. “Mr. Jeremy made you fix it?”

  “Yes, but he finished the work.”

  Tabo grinned. “My lady, I see that special look in Mr. Jeremy’s eyes for you. He has never looked at another woman like this. He loves you.”

  She smiled. “You better get to work. He’s coming.”

  “Yes, my lady.” Tabo left beaming.

  Jeremy stepped on the lodge porch and answered another call. His steady gaze on her, he talked on the phone. Her heart skipped a beat when he winked at her. Could she and Tabo be mistaking his flirting for real affection? Who was he talking with several times a day? Was it a woman or a male business contact?

  Chapter Ten

  Stanley held her hand on her shouldered dart rifle as she peered at the new faces at the lodge. Anyone of them could kidnap her. Poor Tabo was in the wrong place at the wrong time this morning and got hurt. Oh, God, was she next?

  She rubbed her forehead to soothe her annoying headache. It was gone. Huh? Who knew that running for her life from wild animals and kidnappers was less stressful than her office job? She looked at the dart rifle. Did it give her the security she needed? Tabo could’ve died if it weren’t for it.

  Jeremy and Lucky finished packing the Rover with picnic supplies. It was nice of him to excuse her from work, but this was no joy ride for her. She clutched one of the three jars of her aunt’s ashes, hating to let go.

  His gaze softened as he looked at the jar. “Are you okay?”

  She nodded. “I hope you packed an extra bottle of Amarula. I’ll need it today. I’m releasing some of my aunt’s ashes this morning.”

  “I’ll make sure your cup never runs dry.” He looked at the unlabeled cosmetic jar. “I expected a burial urn.”

  “There was a weight limit, so I put the ashes in small jars.”

  “I forgot you came here with only a carry-on.”

  “Do the guests always show up unannounced?”

  “They only come here when the other resorts sell out.”

  “Do you ever get repeat business?”

  “Word of mouth is our best advertisement. Some of these people were here five years ago.” He looked down at the jar. “Are you sure you want to do this today?”

  “There’ll never be a good time for this,” she murmured.

  Stanley sat in her usual seat in the front of the Rover. After a short ride, Jeremy parked at the dock. She stepped out holding the jar and looked at the tranquil water with a sinking heart. Releasing the ashes seemed like she was releasing a part of herself. This is what Aunt Zoie wanted. I should be celebrating this moment in this special place.

  She boarded the antique boat by the riverbank. The smell of fresh varnish and paint hung in the air. She admired the immaculately maintained vessel. The rich mahogany interior stood out against the dark green paint.

  “Welcome. Welcome,” the captain repeated to each guest as they stepped on the boat.

  A tall, dark, and handsome man in a white uniform proudly stood with his chest out onboard the Zambian Princess. He played the part of the old-fashioned captain well, as he puffed on his smoking pipe and checked the time on his antique gold pocket watch. This setting could easily be in a movie. She loved how his massive mustache’s handle bars twisted up. It looked l
ike a tiny boat sitting on top of his thin upper lip.

  The captain passionately gave the history of the boat. “This old gal has sailed the Zambezi over two-thousand times since its first voyage in 1922…”

  She settled in her comfortable green-cushioned seat with the other guests and watched the water gently splash against the sides of the docked boat. Enjoying the soft rocking, she smiled at Jeremy, Lucky, and the captain posing for pictures. She took advantage of Jeremy’s playful mood and zoomed on him. She chuckled as he winked at her through the lens and posed for her like a supermodel. His broad, bright smile and cocked head could sell thousands of calendars to save the elephants. Just in case, she took a few extra pictures.

  A sudden commotion in the boat had her looking over the railing of the back deck at a large croc swimming a few feet away from her. Jeremy and Lucky quickly released the floating vessel from its mooring. She removed her hand from the dart rifle when the croc swam away with its long tail snaking behind.

  The captain blew the horn as the boat crept from the dock and headed upriver. Stanley gripped the jar of ashes. Did she really want her aunt in a river full of hippos, crocodiles, and elephants? The animals seemed in a moment of truce. On the riverbank, a lion stood next to a zebra and quenched its thirst.

  She looked suspiciously at the sneaky crocs. Jeremy said they were just as dangerous as the hunting lions and leopards on land. Without taking their eyes off the crocodiles, the hippos’ big arched eyes and round ears stuck out of water as they blew bubbles.

  Jeremy came over and sat next to her. “The crocs keep their distance from hippos. These herbivores can gang up on an over-confident croc and crush it.”

  She cringed at a yawning hippo’s four large incisors. “I wouldn’t go near them.”

  His voice softened. “Your aunt will like swimming with the animals in the longest river in Africa. Daisy loved seeing the elephants play during her boat rides.”

  Tears welled in her eyes. “I think she’d love it here.”

  When a guest came over to talk to Jeremy, she snuck to the back deck. She twisted the jar lid open and dropped small handfuls of dust into the water. The ashes floated on small waves toward the playful elephants splashing and spraying trunks full of water at each other. Maybe they were welcoming Aunt Zoie in their game with their joyful trumpets.

  Through tears, Stanley smiled at the elephants gushing sprays. Her aunt loved it when she’d chased her with a water hose as a child on a hot summer days. Laughing, Aunt Zoie would run away from her. Now her ashes were drifting away never to be seen again.

  Her eyes lit up when the boat anchored for the guests to enjoy the elephant herd at play. Their giant trunks sucked up the water with her aunt’s ashes and sprayed it like water fountains. It was just like Aunt Zoie to show up in a middle of a game. She was probably splashing, slapping, and tickling their trunks with her ashes.

  In a bittersweet goodbye, she cried alone until long, manly arms circled her waist. Taking in Jeremy’s earthy scent, she leaned her head against his broad chest. His soft lips kissed her cheek as he cuddled her. “This is where I want my ashes,” he said in his deep soothing voice. “I’d love to play a game of tag with the elephants to start my afterlife.”

  She wiped her tears. “I know it’s silly, but my aunt’s ashes give me a sense of security. I don’t know what I’ll do once they’re all gone. I still have two jars to release.”

  He rested his chin on her shoulder. “Whenever I’m sad or depressed, all I have to do is think of these elephants playing in the river and I smile again.”

  “I like how their giant bodies bob in the water like beach balls.”

  “You’re not alone in this, I’m here for you.” He gently squeezed her in his tender hold. “You’re going to be okay.”

  “You really think so?”

  “Absolutely. I’m going to make sure of it.” He kissed her cheek. “I assure you, Daisy is loving her time with the elephants of the Zambezi. This was the perfect place to release her ashes. I’d like to think my father is playing with the elephants in his afterlife. He’d dedicated his entire life to treating, caring, and observing them. His reward in heaven should be swimming with them every day.”

  She looked up at his teary eyes. “You’re also going to be okay.”

  Suddenly, a baby elephant yelped and splashed. Jeremy gently let go of her. Nervously, he paced as a big crocodile snapped at the little trunk and missed. “That’s Luki.”

  She held her rifle up. “I’m going to take down that damn thing.”

  He held his hand up to stop her. “Wait.” He pointed to the large female charging into the water. “There’s Makeda to the rescue.”

  Stanley sighed with relief. The badass mama was jabbing that croc with her tusks. Served him right to go after her baby and almost got her. The beady-eyed monster was fighting back and snapping at Makeda’s trunk. Thank God, she moved out of the way just in time. Her backup arrived. Elephants in the herd ganged up on the croc. A yellow belly flashed, and a long tail whipped the air. Blood soiled the water, but the wounded monster got away.

  “I thought that croc was going to kill Luki.”

  “Makeda never takes her eyes off him.”

  “My aunt said a mother’s job is never done. I’d like to think she had something to do with Luki’s rescue.”

  “Maybe Daisy warned Makeda of the croc.”

  “That’s a nice thought.” She gave him a sweet smile as he held her again. She breathed easy when Makeda corralled Luki back to the herd’s safety.

  “The baby elephants are like human toddlers,” he said. “You can’t take your eyes off them, or they get in trouble.” A small fishing boat pulled alongside them. Jeremy’s body tensed as he released her from his embrace. “Why don’t you go hang out with the guests?”

  Her heart raced from the caution in his voice. She held on to the empty jar and did as he said. Lucky raised his brow and shared nods with Jeremy. Before anyone saw their silent communication, the wildlife conservationist engaged the guests in an informative nature talk.

  He pointed to Makeda spraying water. “Elephant herds are led by females. The star of our Save the Elephant Program is also the matriarch of this herd. Makeda is named after the famous Ethiopian queen, otherwise known as the Queen of Sheba. All of our elephants are named after African royalty because it takes a fierce spirit and courage to survive in the savannah, especially in a drought.” Jeremy’s tone turned sentimental. “Makeda and her herd have survived many fierce battles over the years. She’s like our teenage daughter. We have to keep a close eye on this beauty.”

  The guests chuckled and he continued. “Makeda got pregnant too young and nearly died giving birth to Luki, her firstborn.”

  A guest raised his hand. “Have you lost any elephants in this herd to poaching?”

  Jeremy paused to gather his composure. “Last year, we lost Zulu, Makeda’s father, to poachers. He was named after Shaka Zulu, the fierce African warrior king. Our brave elephant was at the end of the line protecting the weakest in the herd when the poachers attacked him for his tusks. I heard he’d impaled several men before going down. I was out of town at a fundraiser, and Lucky was in bed with malaria. The poachers took advantage of the unguarded herd and killed our most prized and beautiful elephant.”

  “Did the police catch the poachers?”

  “Yes, but it’s hard to keep them in prison. As long as there is a demand for ivory, the elephants will keep dying. And if people don’t kill them, the pachyderms’ unfaltering loyalty to each other takes their lives. Recently, a wild elephant wandered too far down the river and walked off a cliff at the falls. Others plunged to their death, trying to rescue him.”

  “That’s so sad,” she said softly.

  Makeda and her herd stepped out of the river one-by-one after a vigorous swim. She loved how their massive wet bodies glistened in the morning sun. The matriarch led her herd in a single line down the muddy riverbank. Shaking her giant ears
and body dry, she walked into the woods by the lodge.

  The men in the fishing boat drifted down the river. Were they after Makeda or her?

  Jeremy kept his eye on the boat and continued to educate the guests about elephant behavior. “After a rambunctious swim, the elephants chomp on leaves, branches, vines, and bark off trees until their bellies are full. An adult elephant can eat up to six-hundred pounds a day.”

  Stanley sat up when he shared a fond memory about Daisy. She’d learned so much about her aunt through his stories. She really was an incredible woman.

  “Most people in their seventies don’t dare leave the comfort of their homes, especially if they are terminally ill,” he continued. “Stanley’s Aunt Daisy refused to sit at home and feel sorry for herself. Instead, she joined us here for her last days.”

  Jeremy’s version of her aunt’s life at home filled her with guilt and sadness. She didn’t know Aunt Zoie ate her meals alone in front of the TV. She’d assumed Mr. Reed visited her every day. On Tuesdays, he drove her to play bingo with her church friends. Aunt Zoie must’ve changed her routines without telling her.

  Inspired by her aunt’s noble efforts to protect the elephants and the village orphans, she was also ready to help his worthy cause. “What can I do to help you?”

  “You can start by asking the guests for donations.” He looked at the jar in her hand. “If you don’t feel up to it, don’t do it.”

  “I need a distraction from my sadness.”

  He softly whistled to get the chattering guests attention. “For those of you who want to observe Makeda’s other daily rituals, let me know. I’ll be glad to drive you to see them.” He took a hand count and then nodded at Stanley to work her magic for the donations.

  She made a special announcement. “I’ve set up a website that informs you about the elephants shrinking habitat from commercial development. We’re in the process of buying additional land to expand the wildlife territory so Makeda’s herd and others can roam more freely. To make the tax-free gift, just click on the Donate button after you enter your credit card number. It’s as simple as that,” she said with a smile.